All Of Our Days
by Tarma Hartley
Summary: A day in Phoenix's and Miles' life. Phoenix is making dinner one evening, reflecting on how happy he and Miles are now and how glad he is that he gave him, and their relationship, another chance...


_Thank you very much to ALL of my readers for your support over the years! I appreciate it a LOT! :D Here's to 8 more! :D  
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_Thumbnail artwork is a commission, Snuggletime, _**that kopiikat did for me. Thanks! :D  
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_A/N: I do not own Phoenix Wright or Miles Edgeworth, worse luck; CAPCOM does. However, the plot and Mrs. Manelli are mine. :D  
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_A day in Phoenix's and Miles' life. Phoenix is making dinner and reflecting on how happy he and Miles are now and how glad he is that he gave him another chance..._  
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In honour of my 8th anniversary of writing PxE fanfiction I present to you... this fic! :D Ta-da! *Throws confetti* Yay! Hope you enjoy some fluffy romance! There are some shoutouts to some of my fics in here as well. :)**  
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Hope you enjoy! :D

**Thanks** to my readers and all those who have favourited, reviewed, story alerted, favourite author or author alerted me. I appreciate it more than I can say! :)

**Thank you** to my beta reader, Pearls1990, for amazing beta reading, helping me fill up some plot holes and suggestions! Much appreciated! :)

**Special thanks** to my beloved husband, DezoPenguin, for all his help, support, advice, nagging (when necessary), the title of this fic and encouragement! I appreciate it more than I can say! Love you!

**Thank you** to Gemini-Victoria who pointed out something that I had missed! It has now been changed. Thank you for the heads up! Much appreciated!

Comments are appreciated and welcome! :) I'll probably change some things at some point; always room for improvement! :)

Rated T, male/male relationships, drama, Phoenix x Edgeworth  
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_October 15th  
Phoenix Wright &amp; Miles Edgeworth Residence  
8 P.M._

I was humming along to a song on the radio as I bustled around the kitchen, setting the table while I kept one eye on the pots bubbling on the stove.

Miles had called me earlier to let me know that he was staying late at the office this evening to finish a case that he was set to prosecute next week and I had the thought that I would make dinner this evening for us so he wouldn't have to worry about it once he'd arrived home.

Since I wasn't the attorney representing the defendant, I had offered my services to help in whatever way I could and they had been gratefully accepted. I relished being able to help him like this and got Miles the evidence that he could use to put the defendant, a real life monster, away for life. I loved working with him and jumped at the chance to do so whenever I could spare the time when I wasn't busy myself.

I sighed happily as I thought of Miles as I cleaned up the kitchen. I loved him to distraction and had for many years and the happiest day of my life was when we had finally started dating and moved in together shortly after that. Though we had our share of ups and downs over the years like any ordinary couple, we clung to each other and worked hard to make our rather unconventional relationship work. It had survived times of severe testing and we had managed to come through in the end although it was touch and go there for awhile.

As I looked out of the kitchen window at the slowly setting sun later on that afternoon, I found my thoughts returning to a time in the very recent past and, although the memories didn't bother me as much as they used to anymore, I didn't like returning to them too often as they really tended to depress me but decided to face them squarely.

There had been a point when I wasn't sure that I even wanted Miles back in my life: he'd disappeared five years earlier and, from the note he'd left, "_Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth Chooses Death_," I, and everyone else save perhaps for Franziska, thought he was dead. For three long years, I alternately mourned and hated him, torn between heartache and despair only to find out later that he had been alive, although not necessarily well, all that time. He hadn't been dead at all, but had led me, and others, to believe that he was.

I was furious when I found out about Miles' deception and had fully determined to banish him out of my life once and for all. I was in no mood for explanations or excuses at that point in time; he'd flat out lied to me and deceived me. It didn't matter that he had had his own cross to bear, in the form of alcoholism, for those same three years until he'd finally managed to pull himself together and deal with the ghosts of his past.

That had enabled him to begin the process of putting his life back together although I couldn't get past, for the longest time, the fact that he'd led me to believe that he was dead. Just when I had finally started to accept that fact, it was then that he had come back in rather dramatic fashion: he came to the cemetery where I went every year to visit his father's grave on the anniversary of his 'death'. With explosive results.

It must have come as quite a shock to him that I had exploded in anger and rage; he later admitted that he hadn't really thought it through at the time-he just wanted to come back home, and to me, to pick up the pieces of our lives together and resume where we'd left off.

It hadn't been easy for either of us and I certainly didn't help matters much; it took me quite some time to forgive him, and not without a lot of heartache as I wavered back and forth although I eventually did and we'd managed to put our lives, and relationship, back together which I felt was miraculous in and of itself.

Two years had passed since that time and it was a relief to both of us to leave it behind and we'd gone back to our lives and picked up the pieces where we left off. It amazed me at the time at how easily it seemed that we had gone back to living our lives together; it seemed as if the intervening three years had not existed.

Focusing my mind once again on more pleasant things, I'd been planning this surprise for Miles these past few days. Knowing that he'd had a rough week this week with the pending _Bryant V. State of California_ case, I had decided to surprise him this evening with his favorite Italian dish. Seeing as how I was in the middle of my usual three week vacation, as I took one every year, I went to the local Italian marketplace in order to purchase the ingredients I needed.

Mrs. Manelli, a local widow who owned the store we went to frequently and who had "adopted" Miles and I sometime ago, helped me to put together everything I needed and even included a loaf of her Italian bread that both Miles and I were very fond of, along with her famous Tiramisu cake. I thanked her profusely and, although she tried to make light of it as was her wont, I could tell by the sparkle in her hazel eyes that she was pleased.

She'd also included instructions on how to prepare the dish for which I was grateful. She had, in the past when we visited her, made us her Chicken Premavera and I knew that Miles coveted her recipe; though Italian really wasn't my favourite type of food, it was delicious and made my mouth water just thinking about it. I wasn't sure why it was so delicious, but Mrs. Manelli really _had_ that special touch when it came to cooking and we were the grateful beneficiaries of her decades of cooking skill.

She also picked out a bottle of sparkling cider that she said would accompany the meal perfectly and, after we had chatted some more, she had rung up my purchases and bade me goodbye, offering her cheek on which I planted a kiss. She made me promise that we would come over to her home next week for dinner, waggling her finger at me like the Italian mother she was.

"Now remember, Phoenix," she said pointedly, fixing those hazel eyes directly on me as we stood there, "you and Miles must come for dinner next week. No excuses!"

"I wouldn't dream of it, Mamma," I said, chuckling as I leaned over and gave her another peck on the cheek, wrapping my arms around her shoulders and giving her a big hug that she warmly returned.

"See that you don't," she retorted smartly and I couldn't help but laugh. I accepted gratefully, knowing that Miles would also have done so and waved to her as I turned and started walking down the street.

I had arrived home with a light heart around four that afternoon and set about clearing the table and putting on the ecru colored tablecloth that had belonged to Miles' great-grandmother (and that we only took out on special occasions), smoothing out the delicately wrought lace fringe with a gentle hand.

I next took out our good set of Lenox china from the china cupboard in the pantry, walked into the kitchen and washed each piece carefully before I took them into the dining room and set the table, setting each plate, saucer and cup carefully where it belonged. Once I was done, I went into the pantry and retrieved the good silverware and set it out before getting out the crystal goblets we'd received as a gift a year ago. After I'd set the table, I went into the kitchen and continued preparing dinner, whistling as I did so.

At eight-thirty, I happened to be in the kitchen doing some lunch dishes when I heard the tell-tale roar of Miles' car coming up the driveway. I looked through the window over the sink that looked out over the backyard and I saw him wearily get out. He looked disheveled and exhausted from a rather tiring day and it made me doubly glad that I had decided to make dinner for him this evening and give him a little bit of a break.

I smiled as I watched him slowly come up the sidewalk and then pause at the iron wrought gate before he slowly pushed it open and walked through, closing it behind him. I could hear his weary footsteps coming around the side to the back. I tossed the dishtowel I had been using on the counter beside the sink and hurried over to the door to await his arrival.

The smell hit him the moment he walked in and he momentarily paused in the doorway, drawing in a deep breath. I could tell he was pleased from the look on his face; given how tired I could see he was this evening, it made me feel very good.

"Welcome home!" I chirped as I stepped forward, taking his briefcase and jacket and planting a kiss on his lips, a smile spreading over my face. He looked a little disheveled and smiled tiredly, returning the kiss tenderly as he leaned his forehead against mine, closing his eyes.

"It's good to be home," he said wearily as he closed the door behind him. "It's been a _very_ long day and I'm really glad its over."

"I can imagine." We stood there for a few moments before we reluctantly parted. "Ready for next week?" He nodded as I hung up his jacket on the peg behind the door and stashed his briefcase underneath the small table in the foyer, watching as he took off his shoes and put on his black house slippers.

I squeezed his arm. "Wash up and I'll pour the cider." I caressed his cheek with my fingertips before I turned and started walking back toward the dining room.

"All right." He started to walk to the bathroom down the hall when he stopped, taking in a deep breath. "That smells good."

I half-turned my head to look at him and smiled. "It's your favourite dish: Chicken Premavera. It's Mrs. Manelli's recipe."

The expression on his face reminded me of a stunned sheep; his dark grey eyes widened as he made his way to the bathroom with me watching him from down the hall.

"Oh?" He made his way into the bathroom, flicked on the light switch and turned on the faucets before he reached over toward the soap dispenser, squirted some of the liquid soap on his fingers and proceeded to wash his hands. "Did you pick some up at the shop?"

"No." I walked back into the hallway and stood inside the doorway, my arms crossed over my chest as I leaned against the doorjamb. "She gave me her recipe along with the instructions on how to make it."

"Really?" His tone was teasing. He always ribbed me about my cooking skill, or lack thereof, on a fairly frequent basis. Miles himself is an excellent cook and, while I do have some skill in that area, I'll be the first to admit that I'm not as good as he is.

"Really." I crossed my arms over my chest, grinning. "She even gave me one of her freshly baked tiramisu, as well." I gave him a roguish grin as his eyes widened, cheering inwardly. I knew how much he loved Mrs. Manell's tiramisu and it made me happy that I could give him something that he really enjoyed.

"At any rate," I continued as he dried his hands and turned to walk back into the living room, "she also invited us over to her home for dinner next week and I accepted."

He smiled at me.

"Good." He leaned over to kiss me again, doing a long and thorough job of it. "It will be a relief after I wrap up this case."

I nodded. "I can imagine." I could, too. We stood there for a few moments before I gently took his hand in mine and squeezed it. "It's time for dinner so let's go and enjoy it."

He smiled, his fingers linking with mine. A smile spread over my face as I started humming a tune and, drawing him closer, began to dance in the middle of the hallway. He looked surprised for a moment but moved in perfect tandem along with me.

"Yes," he said and we walked together into the dining room. I pulled out a chair for him and he sat, an eyebrow raising.

I knew that look and what it meant.

"Don't look so sour, Miles," I said teasingly, pushing the chair in before I walked over to my seat. "You're tired and have had a very long day." I winked roguishly at him and I could see the twitching at the corners of his mouth as he tried not to laugh. "I want you to relax so let me spoil you a little."

He looked annoyed for a moment and then lifted a hand in defeat.

"Very well," he replied, a smirk on his face. "I'm tired enough that I'll let you."

I laughed as I grabbed a plate and started serving the Primavera, putting it down in front of him. The smile that spread across his face was beatific and I couldn't help feeling a surge of pride as I watched him pick up a fork and dig in. I placed the small plate of tossed green salad on his right, filling his wine glass with the cider before filling my own plate and sitting down.

For the next hour or so, we ate, talked and laughed over a hundred different things. I saw him looking at me and the love I saw reflected in his grey orbs took my breath away. We'd gone through a lot, he and I, and had at last arrived at a place where we were both comfortable and happy.

We enjoyed our meal immensely, particularly the lively dinner conversation, and there were plenty of leftovers to put into freezer containers to have some on hand for later in the week; seeing how busy we were both going to be later on, it was a good thing that we had plenty on hand for quick meals through the week coming. We lingered over tiramisu and the coffee I made to accompany it and I couldn't help looking at him in between bites once again, marveling at how beautiful he was and how thankful I was that I had given him, and us, another chance.

His hand slid across the table and covered mine, his fingertips gently tracing patterns over the back of my hand that sent sparks running through me. I looked at him, his dark grey eyes smouldering as we stared at each other, dessert and coffee momentarily forgotten. The invitation was plain and we hurriedly finished our dessert, leaving the coffee cups half full as we got up and rushed down the hallway, shedding clothing as we went.

Miles grabbed my hand and pulled me toward him and I stumbled as I practically ran into him but he was able to keep me upright as his hungry mouth pressed hard against mine. My legs felt like rubber as I melted into his embrace and he held me close, his hands busily exploring my heated flesh. After we had parted, his mouth traveled over my neck and I swallowed hard as I felt his teeth nibbling down my collarbone. I moaned softly as he continued before his mouth bit down hard on my shoulder, sucking hard. A thrill went through me from my head right down to my feet and I trembled as Miles continued his explorations.

He led me to the bedroom, kissing me intermittently every five steps or so before we tumbled onto the bed, devouring each others mouths. We somehow managed to shed the last of our clothing before I wrestled him to the bed, linking my fingers with his as I pinned his hands above his head, my mouth devouring his with relish. I trailed love bites down the side of his neck which I knew, from long experience, would drive him crazy with desire, the moans pouring from his mouth, and his head thrashing from side to side proved that I was right in this respect.

We took our time exploring each other before joining together, making passionate love for some time, our hands devouring each others overheated flesh, our bodies and minds joining together as one as we flew into the sun together. Time seemed to stand still as we gradually came down from the peak, collapsing in a tangled heap of sweaty limbs.

I held him tightly after we had caught our collective breaths, raking my fingers through his sweat-soaked hair, kissing his forehead gently. I closed my eyes, breathing in the scent of him, tracing slight patterns on his glistening skin. God, how I loved this man! There was no one, save Miles, that I wanted and, as we lay together, I made a silent promise to my beloved that I would love and cherish him all of our days together.

A smile tugged at my lips as we snuggled each other, faint murmurs of pleasure escaping from our lips. At this moment, everything was perfect and I couldn't have asked for anything more; the hurt and pain of the past was laid to rest and now we could move on.

I couldn't wait to see where we would go together but this much _was _certain: I wanted Miles by my side wherever the journey of life led us.

Miles' grey eyes flickered upward to meet mine, a beatific smile spreading over his face, my breath catching in my throat. He lifted his hand and I felt his fingertips tenderly caress my cheek, his eyes shining as he tilted his head, his lips meeting mine, pressing butterfly kisses against my mouth.

"I love you, Phoenix," he said softly.

My arms tightened around him. "I love you, too, Miles."

I nuzzled the side of his head gently and kissed him again before we settled down and fell asleep, cradled in each others loving embrace.

**~Fin~**


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